


Of Hot Chocolate and Rainy Nights

by paulmcfartney



Category: McLennon - Fandom, The Beatles
Genre: Basically, Beatles Slash, John is a hoe, M/M, Mclennon smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, paul is needy, what more could you ask for?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 08:47:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13337640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paulmcfartney/pseuds/paulmcfartney
Summary: yall already know what's goin on ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)





	Of Hot Chocolate and Rainy Nights

When Paul had asked him to come over that night, he already had a idea of what the man had in mind. John could hear it in his voice. The hint of raspiness coming from that plump mouth on the other side of the line wasn't from the hours of recording in the studio they'd recently put in, but out of desire, yearning. So, giddy with excitement, John Lennon made his way out into the torrential downpour that he didn't realize had begun. Luckily, only a few short blocks separated the lovers' apartments and he arrived in no time.

Soaked down to the bone and dripping onto the carpeting in the corridor, he prayed that Paul would answer the door soon. Music from inside the flat spilled out through the cracks under and around the door. He could hear footsteps approaching, which stopped momentarily, before the stunning man on the other side opened the door, eyebrows arched high and doe eyes wide. Despite his shock from John's current state, the hint of arousal was still there, very evident in his eyes, and slightly in his pants. "Christ, John, is it really that bad out?" Paul questioned as he pulled the dripping man abruptly inside. While Paul scurried around trying to find a towel, John stood alone in the front room, shivering and wishing he'd thought to use an umbrella or at least worn a damn jacket.

He returned with a fluffy towel and a fresh set of clothes. With a quick peck on the cheek, he thanked Paul and led himself to the toilet to change. Paul's clothes had always been just a bit snug on him, shirt pulling at his torso and plaid pajama pants stretched around his waist, but they never failed to make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. The thought of wearing his lover's shirt was enough to make his heart burst right out of his chest. John had tried to dry his hair as best as he could, but it was no use, and it just continued to drip dry onto his neck and around the collar of Paul's wool sweater.

Walking back out into the living room, he'd noted the several twinkling candles Paul had lit in all of the different nooks and crannies he could find. It was adorable, and John couldn't help but smile at his efforts towards being a hopeless romantic. He noticed Paul sitting curled up on the sofa, knees hugged to his chest and head slouched to the side, and took the opportunity to sneak up behind him. Thankfully, he didn't hear John's light footsteps, as his attention was much too fixed on the weather report coming from the television. He snuck up behind the distracted man on the couch and wrapped his arms around his neck. Paul squirmed in surprise at first, but relaxed once he had realized whose arms had found him. "Fuckin' hell John, I almost jumped out of my seat!" his voice raised a bit, but he wasn't at all serious with the slight bit of laughter evident in his tone. John leaned downwards and pressed his lips to the part of Paul's neck that met his shoulder and sucked, eventually leaving a purple mark that seemed to grow darker each second. Paul let out a small whimper in delight and cocked his head to the side to give the man more room to work. John swirled his tongue around the now oval-shaped bruise after nipping it gently with his teeth, trying to soothe the now tender spot he had created. A hand crept around to the back of John's head and pulled at the ruffled, auburn locks so that Paul could kiss him properly.

Paul pressed up towards John's eager mouth, which gladly complied as he caught Paul's wet bottom lip between his teeth, pulling at it in the slightest. Another whimper escaped Paul's lips, and he slowed down the heated kiss to small, leisurely pecks that brought both men goofy smiles. "There's hot chocolate in the kitchen," Paul breathed after they had separated, ruffling the man's hair even more whilst grinning up at him. As much as John craved the baby-faced man he was gazing down at, he figured that hot chocolate wouldn't be a terrible way to warm up after being caught in that sudden torrential downpour only moments ago. Whenever Paul made the comforting drink, John could never pass up the opportunity, being that everyone was entirely sure that he only occasionally made the best hot chocolate the world's ever seen! He couldn't resist the temptation and released Paul with one final kiss before scrambling through the kitchen doorway like an overly-enthused schoolboy.

Two steaming mugs sat on the counter, waiting patiently for someone like John to chug down the thick, chocolatey goodness that they held. He noticed that one of the mugs Paul had chosen was the one that read "World's Best Dad!" in bright, yellow letters. The man had remembered buying that mug for him as a gag gift after John had accidentally let the word "daddy," slip from his lips as Paul was fucking him roughly into their hotel room mattress. The look on Paul's face as he had unwrapped the box, completely unaware of its contents up until he had read the label, was absolutely priceless. John stood there, picturing the man's boyish, round cheeks heating up to turn a fiery red and his eyes nearly popping out of his skull, mortified. He was glad that he had kept it and not just thrown it out, picking them both up and making sure that Paul would get his special mug.

John walked the drinks back to the sofa where Paul was now stretched out, careful not to spill any of it onto the waxed, wooden floors. Paul noticed him with sleepy eyes, which soon fell on the certain mug he had in hand. Smirking at John, he took the drink and shifted so that the man could snuggle up close to his chest. They sat in peace, watching the newscaster on the television call for even more rain and wind. The pitter patter of the droplets hitting the window behind them was soothing, and the feeling of Paul's arm stretched out lazily over his shoulder would, at any other time, be enough to lull him off to sleep. This time, the hint of arousal in his pants had given him slightly different plans. They sipped their hot chocolate for a while it still being scalding hot because Paul had made it just minutes before John had arrived on his doorstep. The man's hair was still soaked from the rain, and Paul hadn't even noticed until he'd felt a cold wetness pressing against his shoulder. He shifted uncomfortably until John got the idea and sat up, noticing. "Oh shit, sorry love. I forgot my hair was still wet," John apologized, even though he could see that Paul wasn't genuinely upset by it. "S'alright, babe," Paul grinned. "I'll just have to go change my shirt." That tiny bit of arousal was still there and evident, and when Paul got up to go to his bedroom, John didn't hesitate in following after setting his mug down beside Paul's.

When Paul took off his sweater, John felt like it was some sort of religious experience, getting to see that perfect, milky white skin pulled taut over his chest, and that little sprinkle of hair's that began just below his neck and grew much darker the further down you looked. It's not that he hadn't seen him before. After Hamburg, they were all completely unafraid and unashamed, and frankly couldn't care less. But God, John couldn't take his eyes off of him. He got up from his spot on the bed and walked over to Paul, who had just pulled another shirt out of his dresser drawer. John calmly yanked the plain white tee from his loose grip and tossed it back into the dresser drawer, not caring about how neat Paul had always kept his clothes. The younger didn't complain at all when John pressed himself into his backside, holding Paul flush against him with two firm hands placed on his hips. John's hands began to roam his skin delicately, dragging rough fingers up and down his arms and palms across his soft tummy that John especially loved to nip at. Paul relaxed into his lover's gentle touches and pressed even more against him, wanting to feel more of him. John's nose poked behind Paul's ear as he sucked the loose lobe into his mouth and grazed his teeth carefully on the tender skin, earning a breathy moan from Paul.

The other times that they'd had sex we're always in some hotel room with either Brian or George and Ringo sleeping in the other side of the wall. It had always been quite the burden. Now, they could let loose and be as loud as they pleased, with the thundering storm outside as an added bonus.

It was in a swirl of moans and touches that Paul turned around to face the older man, grasping onto whatever he could hold, namely John's hair. Their lips met in a frenzied kiss, John's hands continuing to roam aimlessly around the expanse of Paul's back before they found his ass and squeezed graciously. Paul moaned prettily into John's mouth and bucked his hips involuntarily into John's, making both men whine and hiss. John hadn't even noticed that they'd been moving until the back of his knees hit the mattress, which he was soon pushed into by the man licking slowly, passionately into his mouth. Paul was splayed out on top of him, shamelessly grinding their now pulsing hard bulges together in a frantic rhythm, neither man wanting to stop even if God himself was watching them through the doorway. Paul's fingers fumbled with the hem of John's borrowed sweater and tugged it upwards to reveal the man's wispy navel, wanting it completely off of him and discarded onto the carpet as soon as humanly possible.

Soon, it was tossed on the floor, pants being thrown on top, and their chests moved together freely, heaving and gasping in between heated kisses. John could feel Paul's smile against his lips as they melded over and over again. Somewhere amongst the strings of moans, John managed to flip them over so that Paul was the one being pressed into the mattress. He broke their kiss and moved his lips lower across his cheek and down to his stubbled jawline. Dragging his tongue across Paul's neck, John's mouth met his Adam's apple, suckling on it and swirling his tongue around. "O-Oh, John please!" Paul cried out, eyes squeezed shut and mouth falling open to form a perfect 'o' shape. John paused momentarily, removing his lips from Paul's neck and moving up to meet the shell of his ear. He hadn't stopped the movement of their hips and he could hear Paul's quiet little whimpers and gasps of pleasure much easier now. "Lie back and let me take care of you, Paulie," he whispered, his voice ragged and thin. He could feel Paul shudder at his words and goosebumps break out on his skin as he nodded against the man's cheek. Paul's hands floated around John's back and tried to pull him impossibly closer. John cupped Paul's jaw as the other stroked up and down his side before gripping his waist and sliding off of him.

Paul took the opportunity to scoot backwards against the wooden headboard, his eyes never leaving the man to his side. He noted that John's almond eyes seemed substantially darker, clouded over with lust. John waited until his partner was seated properly before crawling back over to him and tossing a leg over Paul's hairy thighs. And when John had begun to move his hips once again, Paul was entirely sure that he was going to black out, that it felt so much better than it had before. John's hands smoothed up Paul's pale torso, over his pink nipples, and came to rest on his cheeks. Because of his slightly higher position, John had to almost lean down in order for their lips to meet, teeth clacking together at the sheer intensity of their mouths.

Paul's threw his hands around the man's neck and locked them together, lips sliding and tongues curling around each other's. They followed him as the man broke the kiss and slid down Paul's torso, leaving tiny nips and pecks along the way. John spread Paul's legs so that he could lay between them on his stomach. He nudged at the obvious bulge in the man's boxers with his nose, Paul groaning and tightening his legs around him. John took his time, his hand rubbing him slowly through the plaid fabric, feeling him become harder under his touch. When John finally pulled Paul's boxers down, his erection sprung free from its cotton confines, red and glistening at the tip from the seemingly long while of teasing.

"Mm, John, come on," Paul urged, thrusting his hips upwards towards John's mouth, searching for some sort of friction. John had other plans, dipping down between his thighs and repeatedly closing his teeth around tiny bits of flesh, making the man above him whimper, desperately wanting his mouth wrapped around him as soon as possible. The man soon obliged, licking a single wet stripe up the veiny underside of his length and popping the swollen tip inside his mouth, swirling his tongue around generously. "Fuck, Johnny--oh," Paul babbled sloppily, balling John's hair in a fist as he began to take him further and further into his mouth each time. There was a bump from above him and when John's gaze floated upwards, he had to think of waterfalls and cold things to keep himself from coming in his briefs right there. Seeing Paul completely blissed out, head thrown back against the headboard, eyes fluttered shut, jaw slack and gasping desperately for oxygen, was a sight for sore eyes. The way his chest heaved and his eyelashes occasionally flickered to show his lustful eyes was maddening, and it only urged John on even more.

His hand gripped the base of Paul's cock and held him upright so that he could take him even deeper, his tip brushing the back of his throat, making his eyes start to water. Still, John went even further and kept on pushing down with each tiny thrust of Paul's hips. He took Paul out of his mouth and stroked him slowly, wanting to drag this out for as long as possible until Paul wouldn't want, but needed to fuck him hard and rough. John sucked him into his mouth again, running his tongue up and down a short vein he'd found, dragging out a long groan from Paul. He continued on, listening intently to the desperate little noises that were falling from the man's lips. "Ugh, shit J-John if you keep this up, m'not gonna last," Paul warned, the hand in John's hair pulling him back.

John reluctantly pulled off of Paul's cock with a plop and slid back up to meet his lips in a sloppy kiss, Paul's hand still tangled in his hair to bring him in closer. Their tongues tangled together, licking and curling, occasionally running along the roof of the other's mouth. Paul's hands traveled to the waistband of John's briefs and tugged them down in one fluid movement to reveal his leaking erection and began to stroke him quickly. John leaned forward to press his forehead to Paul's, their noses bumping past each other's and John's hot breath ghosting over Paul's lips. When he dragged his thumb over the tip, gathering up the precome that had been leaking out there, he felt John shudder against him, and Paul left tiny pecks all over his forehead, his nose, his cheeks. "I want you inside of me," John whispered hoarsely, their lips brushing briefly. Paul captured his lover's thin bottom lip in between his fuller ones and sucked, running his tongue across while John moaned into his mouth, beginning to thrust his hips into Paul's working fist.

He released John for a moment so that he could pull his briefs off completely and dig the small, clear bottle out of Paul's bedside table. John seated himself in Paul's lap once more, this time completely bare, hearts thumping and minds racing with the thought of what was to come. When Paul squirted a fair amount of lube onto his fingers and placed them underneath John, the anticipation was rushing through his veins. As soon as his finger brushed near the puckered hole, he let out a small whimper and bucked his hips. "Put 'em in," John almost commanded, needing Paul inside him immediately.

His finger inched inside of John's quivering hole slowly and carefully, letting him get used to the new feeling. Paul couldn't take his eyes off of him, eyes squeezed shut and bushy brows furrowed as he moved his hips around, helping Paul search for that certain spot buried deep inside of him. He twisted and curled his finger inside of the man, making him squirm above him and groan. His head was thrown back instantly, showing how the muscles in his neck flexed, and his cheeks were flushed a deep red. "Mm, that's it, Paul. Right fuckin' there," John mumbled, moving his hips even more to increase the friction. Paul instantly shoved another finger inside of John and rubbed down hard on his prostate. He was moving his hips in little circles, grinding down on Paul's calloused fingers and muttering obscenities under his breath. Wanting to be crammed up inside of him soon, Paul scissored his fingers, preparing John just a bit more for the size of his erection.

John kept his eyes locked on Paul's as he pulled his fingers out, knowing what was coming next. Paul took the lube, squirting some in his hand and spreading it on his dick, eyes filled with lust for the other man. John took in every small detail; how his frame was relaxed effortlessly against the pile of pillows behind his back, how he almost seemed to blink in slow motion, how his toes curled whenever he noticed how John was staring so intently as he wanked himself. And when John had lifted himself, about to take him in, Paul whispered, "I love you," in the most tender, most genuine voice he'd ever heard. So he sunk down slowly, taking him centimeter by centimeter, the familiar tightness in his belly growing stronger the more he went down. The vicious burning feeling was inevitable, but John knew that it would be completely worth it in the end when the delicious pleasure took over. His hand fell to Paul's nearly hairless chest for balance as Paul held him by the waist, guiding him and holding him steady. "That's it, babe. I've got you," Paul breathed, being overwhelmed by the feeling of something so tight and warm wrapped around him, taking him to the hilt. "Jesus John, you feel fucking fantastic, so tight for me..." he continued babbling, making John frown, his eyes locked shut once more in concentration. "If you say that one more time, I'm fuckin' leaving," John muttered, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. They stayed still for a moment, John taking all the time in the world to adjust to his size. Paul had been brushing his fingers up John's sides in order to try to soothe him. When John started to move his hips forward and backward, a broken moan left his lips, and Paul knew that he was ready.

"Fuckin' move," he groaned in urgency, rolling his hips until Paul began to meet his movements with tiny thrusts. His hands remained on John's hips, pulling him up and John slamming down onto his pulsing member furiously. The smell of sweat and sex had filled the air some time ago, and Paul had only noticed it now, as it almost seemed like his senses were heightened. His eyes had been fluttering shut, but he was set on keeping them wide, not daring to take his gaze off of the gorgeous man that was working so relentlessly above him. "Mm, Jesus Christ, John," Paul murmured in complete awe. Little beads of sweat were beginning to form on John's body, making him appear to be glowing. He slowed down for a bit, leaning forward to adjust his angle and so he could meet Paul's lips. John's hands cupped Paul's cheeks, tilting his head upwards, and wove his tongue into his mouth slowly, running it along his full bottom lip. He locked his hands together behind Paul's neck. Paul thrusted upwards, trying to help the man find his prostate, and it seemed to have worked. He could feel John quiver around him, and he knew that he'd hit it when John's head came to rest next to his ear, whimpering and gasping lewdly. A wave of delicious pleasure coursed through John's body, making him shaky and even more undone than before. "Fuckin' right there," he growled.

Paul sat up from his previously relaxed position and wrapped his arms around John's back and began to thrust upwards wildly, brushing John's prostate with every single movement. He was a trembling mess, meeting Paul's member with every thrust, thighs damp from sweat smacking together below, grasping onto his neck as he let out the most obscene moans known to man. His painfully red erection stood proud between their working bodies, and when Paul brought a hand around to stroke in time with his thrusts, John let out a wail that could've been heard from the complete other side of London. "Fucking shit, Paul!" John cried vulgarly, his member pulsing and threatening to burst at any given moment. "Yeah babe, I'm right here. You're so beautiful, crying out for me as I fuck you." Paul felt John's muscles contracting around him, bringing him even closer to a delicious orgasm. "Come on, John. I wanna see you as you come so prettily for me," he cooed in John's ear, nibbling down on the shell as John had done to him earlier.

That was it. John felt the knot in his stomach impossibly tighten before he got his long sought-after release, coming in spurts all over Paul's still working hand and stomach. He groaned weakly throughout the height of it all as Paul kept thrusting through it, his hand never straying from John's dick. The feeling of being inside of John as he came and hearing those luscious noises come from deep in his throat was far too much for Paul, and he soon came with a weak cry, thrusting hard one last time up into the man and shamelessly emptying himself inside of him. John slumped against Paul, their foreheads pressed together as they gazed lovingly into each other's eyes, grinning lazily. "Christ John, you're gonna end up killing me someday," Paul mused against his lips, brushing the damp hair from John's eyes. "Mm," John groaned and leaned in even more. Their lips met, moving languidly together with no sense of urgency or need, but with a sense of love and warmth.

The rain slapped against the window and the forgotten thunder rolled on outside, only making John curl in closer to Paul and rest his head on his chest. Paul's fingers ran leisurely through John's semi-wet hair as he kissed in between his eyebrows, his lips lingering for a moment before moving down to peck the tip of his angular nose. John couldn't help but giggle like a little school girl at the thought of Paul kissing him so tenderly and sweet. Their lips touched ever so slightly, John grazing his mouth against the corner of Paul's. They separated, gazing at each other with drooping eyelids and slowing heartbeats. John snuggled up to Paul and laid his head in the crook of his neck, letting the smell of his aftershave and the feeling of rough fingers wandering up and down his arm whisk him off into a deep sleep.

Their hot chocolate sat cold and forgotten in the front room.


End file.
